No One
by Bolinlover123
Summary: You were surprised you had gotten away with it for so long. Although, you guessed that was a good thing. You didn't really care if anyone found out.
1. Chapter 1

_Slight trigger warning._

..

The knife glides across your wrist easy now; a bad habit turned instinctual. No one would ever expect this from you-brooding was more of Mako's thing- and that perceived innocence you radiate, makes the whole act at hiding it that much less difficult. You were good at hiding it, you knew all the tricks. You made sure there was no way anyone would ever find out about how the cuts on the inside of your forearms, were anything but accidental.

Because you were the carefree one. Because you were the happy one.

You press a towel to your wrists for a few minutes until the blood stops flowing, and hide the knife back in its spot. You wrap your arms with gym bandages. Flashing a grin in the mirror, you search your eyes for any hint of a lie, any giveaway as to what lay beneath. Once you are satisfied, you look away from the mirror and go down the stairs to greet everyone as usual, never once looking back.

The first time you did it-_cut yourself_, that is- was when you were fourteen. You don't even remember why, or how you did it. But it happened; it felt good. Made the pain of hunger and your self-loathing go away for the time being. You blamed the wound on Pabu scratching you. Mako believed it. It was easy. It made the pain go away. And it felt _good._

You promised yourself it wouldn't happen again. You had gotten a home above the arena; food, rent, friends, purpose.

You promised yourself you'd stop.

That was as much of a lie as your smile.

So you did it again. And again, for years, with no one suspecting a thing. On the inside of your thighs so no one would ever be the wiser.

It was what you deserved. It was the perfect lie.

Until one day you forget to lock the damned bathroom door.

"_Why,_ though?"

Mako's voice is soft and understanding as he looms in the doorway, muscles going still. His voice holds none of the harshness that you ever imagined this moment to be like: it's perhaps too understand, in your opinion, and it makes your blood boil.

You sigh, because you know the damage is done and there is no denying it now. "Just leave it, Mako," you say, casting your gaze at your brother. The red blotches the white of your skin, and in your hast to cover it up, your sleeve had gotten wet. "It's nothing."

"It's _not_ just nothing," he tells you, stepping closer with determination in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it," you manage. Because what is there to say? _'Sorry I hate myself so much_?' or _'This makes me feel better_?' And you can see the pain on his face, the look in his eyes, sadly thinking _oh, Bolin, what have you done?_

"Bo..." He steps closer to you; you take a step back.

"I just- it's something I do every now and then when everything sort of...hurts..." That's not the word you'd use to describe it, but it's what forms in your mouth, "and I just-I can't explain it-okay?"

"I'm here for you, Bo," Mako says, gritting his teeth, and patting your shoulder. You shrug him off, and he winces. But he has to know. He has to understand that you- "Come on, I've always been here for you. You know you can trust me-"

Your anger fairs again, hot and red. "I know, _father_ Mako. You don't have to even start. I know the speech." Mako blinks, you ignore the hurt in his eyes and allow your anger to push on. "That you've watched us since we were little and that you'll always be there. I don't care, Mako, okay?" You wave a dismissal palm, and breathe deeply, tiredness taking over your features. "I'm fine, okay? I don't...really care anymore, anyways."

Mako seems to have none of that, though. He takes your shoulder, "Well,_ I_ care, Bo," He says, pushing you against the tiles in the bathroom, trying to get you to sit down. "Don't shut me out like this."

"Stop, get the hell-"

"Don't-

"I'm not-"

"Bolin!"

"I'm not happy, okay?" The words suddenly pour out of you in a scream, pushing off the hard grip of your brother's knuckles. "W-with anything; I'm just floating around, tagging along, and it's hard- it's fucking hard not knowing what you are, and who you are to people. I thought things were finally getting better after a became a mover star- that I finally found purpose. But it hasn't made things better, okay? And I _don't know_ why I feel like. Why I feel like shit. There must be more to life than this; and you know what, Mako? Sometimes, on very hard days, I think there isn't. Especially when I think of Mom and Dad, and just think-why should I make the effort anymore?"

Mako's eyes were sad and held some form of apology that you could not decipher. "You're the only one I have left in the world," he tells you, "If you don't care about yourself, at least help me out here a little." Mako says through blurred eyes.

You sigh, big and weary. "We're brothers, and I love you. But you need to let me be, okay?" Mako shakes his head at that. "The-" You stop, as you watch Mako shrink away from the word he knew you were going to say, "That thing helps, okay? I know it's not great, but it helps. I need you to give me space."

With that, you slam the door, pushing Mako out and leaving your brother staring blankly, wondering-_why hadn't I seen the signs sooner?_

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><p><em>Sorry; I know this topic isn't for everyone. But I'd really appreciate a review. Thank you.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_I don't know if I should just leave this as is, or update...? This story is dedicated to my friend who I love very much._


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